Last Ten
by padfoot's prose
Summary: Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war. In love, you never know which moments could be your last.
1. Texts

**Last Ten****  
**Text Messages

**...**

_by padfoot_

* * *

From Kurt, October 2, 11:56pm

_There once was a boy named Blaine_

From Kurt, October 2, 11:59pm

_Whose face was a nice as his name_

From Kurt, October 3, 12:06am

_He met me (I'm Kurt)_

From Kurt, October 3, 12:07am

_And he cured my hurt_

From Kurt, October 3, 12:11am

_By singing away all the pain_

From Kurt, October 3, 12:14am

_I'm sorry I'm so terrible at limericks._

From Kurt, October 3, 9:33am

_You, sir, are far too kind : )_

From Kurt, October 3, 10:17pm

_Haha, I miss you more_

From Kurt, October 3, 10:58pm

_Go to sleep!_

From Kurt, October 3, 11:01pm

_Love you xx_

* * *

**A/N: I am in need of nine more prompts for this story. The prompt needs to make sense in the context of 'the last ten times Kurt and Blaine did/said/thought *prompt*'. I will accept that first nine that I receive, both on here and on tumblr. Only one prompt can be submitted per review/ask. Thank you!**


	2. Laughs

**Last Ten**

Laughs  
(prompted by R-luvs-butterflies)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

Kurt's leg was jigging. He was anxious. Upset.

"You wanted me to do this, Blaine, remember?"

Blaine nodded, his voice monotonous as he replied, "I know."

"And you promised me that you wouldn't cry," Kurt was looking positively frantic as he rushed on, "because if you cry, I'll start to cry too, and then we'll both be crying and the memory of you that I'll take to New York with me will be all teary and red and horrible, and you know I'd never go if I didn't think we were both going to be fine, because of course we'll be fine, we're _us _and I love you so much and I'm just _sure_ that-"

Blaine let out a sudden burst of laughter, cutting off Kurt's tirade.

"I love you," he said.

...

"Oh, Blaine, you just have no idea how _amazing_ it is here. And this apartment that we've got, Rachel and me – I can't wait for you to be here and see it yourself. I mean, the walls are a bit bare and it needs furnishing and everything, but God, it's so close to perfect I think I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy. And, sure, the neighbourhood isn't ideal, but it's not far to- hey, what's so funny?"

"You are, Kurt," Blaine giggled. "You're living this whole life now and- wow. I just can't wait to share it with you."

Kurt grinned and hugged his pillow tighter.

"Me either."

...

"Hi, Kurt. It's me. I- um... I guess you're busy. With your job. At Vogue. Wow... that's just- it's incredible, really."

Blaine's breathy laughter tingled in Kurt's ear, lending warmth to the little cavern in his chest.

"I'm so proud of you. You have no idea. I guess I'll just let you go then. I'll try calling again later. I love you! I miss you."

...

"You totally just passed me the popcorn bowl, didn't you?"

Blaine's expression was sheepish as he leaned back in range of the webcam and replied, "Maybe..."

Kurt's laugh was sweet and loud and hundreds of miles away.

...

From Blaine, September 17, 7:16am

_Kurt_

From Blaine, September 17, 7:18am

_Kurt, wake up_

From Blaine, September 17, 7:19am

_It's Blaine, Kurt – it's me!_

From Blaine, September 17, 7:22am

_Well, anyway, I need to tell you something._

From Blaine, September 17, 7:22am

_So if you won't text me back then you can just read this later._

From Blaine, September 17, 7:30am

_Kurt Hummel. I love you and I miss you more than ever. I think you might be the love of my life and I think I want to spend forever with you. I want to hug you and kiss you and hold you every single day. I want to spoil you and make you feel smothered and as if you're too loved, too cherished. I want to be selfish with you, and have you all to myself all the time. Because you're perfect. And because I love you. So so so so sooooo much._

From Blaine, September 17, 7:32am

_Just thought you should know _

From Kurt, September 17, 9:08am

_Blaine Anderson, you are a jerk. You made me cry at work. My boss thinks I'm crazy._

From Kurt, September 17, 9:10am

_But you also made me laugh and smile so much that my cheeks hurt._

From Kurt, September 17, 9:13am

_I'm going to love you forever._

...

"I miss your hair."

"I miss your nose."

"I miss your lips."

"I miss kissing you."

"_I _miss kissing _you_."

"I also miss hugging you."

"Mm... me too. I miss your smile."

"I miss your voice."

"I'm right here!"

"I know, but- it's not the same."

"Yeah..."

"I miss your laugh."

"I laugh all the time!"

"Not really... I can't remember the last time you laughed with me."

"Maybe you're just not that funny."

Both boys guffawed, hands over their mouths to smother the noise, as they hid beneath covers, behind curtains and doors. Cocooned in each other's laughter. Clutching their phones to their ears like a lifeline.

...

"-and the fabric was the most beautiful colour, like the ocean at sunset on a cloudy day."

"Hey, that reminds me – you know what I was wondering today?"

"Hmm?"

"How deep would the ocean be if there weren't any sponges?"

Kurt was silent. And then a snort of laughter sounded through the phone, making Blaine chuckle.

"You're ridiculous."

"I love you too."

...

From Kurt, September 25, 10:41pm

_I was thinking about what you said about the sponges in the ocean._

From Blaine, September 25, 10:43pm

_And...?_

From Kurt, September 25, 10:46pm

_Well, what do you think would happen if you took all the whales and sharks and fish and dolphins and sea cucumbers and stuff out of the ocean?_

From Blaine, September 25, 10:50pm

_Other than ruining the biodiversity of the globe?_

From Kurt, September 25, 10:52pm

_Yeah, other than that. Sea levels would drop, right?_

From Blaine, September 25, 10:52pm

_Right..._

From Kurt, September 25, 10:53pm

_Blaine. I think I just solved global warming._

From Blaine, September 25, 10:55pm

_Kurt. I think you need some sleep._

From Blaine, September 25, 10:57pm

_Sweet dreams! I love you._

...

"Surprise!"

"Blaine! Wha-"

"Hi."

...

Their hands were joined, clutching onto one another too hard and too tight. Too much as if they never wanted to let go.

"You'll love Callbacks," Kurt said for the tenth time, "It's great, really. Did I tell you that they do karaoke?"

"Yes, you did. About six times already, actually."

Kurt ducked his head, blushing.

"I'm sorry," he said, stopping where he stood and pulling Blaine to a halt too. "I just- my mind doesn't work right when you're here."

Blaine's brow furrowed, "Is that a good thing, or..."

"Yes," Kurt insisted with a laugh, "It's definitely a good thing."


	3. Kisses

**Last Ten**

Kisses

(prompted by thebratprincess94)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

"I can't believe the summer is already over," Blaine grumbled from where he lay on Kurt's bed, sprawled across the covers.

Kurt, standing on the other side of the room buttoning up his shirt, smiled at Blaine's reflection in the mirror.

"You're not looking forward to going back to school?" he asked, teasing just a little.

"You know-" Blaine sat up, crossing his legs in front of himself, "-I used to like going back to school. Seeing all the guys again, finding out who my teachers were, auditioning for the Warblers..."

Turning to face his boyfriend, Kurt raised an eyebrow, "But you don't like school now?"

"I like _you_," Blaine offered, "And _you_ aren't going to be there when I go back."

"I'm here now." Kurt moved towards the bed, reaching out to grasp Blaine's hand. "I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

Blaine smiled, eyes sad and earnest as he murmured, "I don't want to hold you back. I want both of us to be able to go."

Kneeling on the bed, Kurt shuffled closer, until his knees were pressed against Blaine's legs.

"Silly," he chastised, lifting a hand to brush a curl off his boyfriend's forehead, "You're not holding me back. You're holding me up."

A pink blush coloured Blaine's cheek and he ducked his head, suddenly shy.

"I just- I _really_ love you," he breathed.

"I know," Kurt replied, leaning in to kiss him.

...

Blaine was waiting outside when Kurt stepped out the front door. He waved, holding up a Lima Bean cup, and even from the porch Kurt could see the love heart drawn onto it.

"You know I like this coffee less and less the more time I spend working there making it," Kurt said once he was close enough.

"Well, it's a good thing that this isn't for you then," Blaine teased, handing the cup over with a giggle when Kurt started to glare.

Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt quickly, just catching the side of his mouth.

"What was that for?" Kurt asked, surprised.

Blaine shrugged, "Because I love you."

"Good reason."

...

The auditorium emptied out once auditions were over, the Glee club members withdrawing to their various classes or heading home for the day. Kurt, with nowhere to be, stayed where he was, staring sightlessly at the abandoned stage.

"You okay?" Blaine asked. He'd stood to leave, but paused when he saw that Kurt wasn't moving.

Kurt shook his head, turning to look at Blaine.

"No," he said. "I'm not."

Blaine's eyes raked over Kurt's face, looking for something, some clue of what was wrong.

"Can I help?" he finally asked.

"I don't think so."

Blaine bent down, his eyes meeting Kurt's, seeing the confusion in them, the sense of having no purpose, of being lost.

"I wish I could help," Blaine said.

"You do," Kurt promised. "More than you know." And he leant forward to kiss Blaine lightly on the lips.

...

"You sang to me," Kurt said, once they were back in the hallway – small and anonymous among the masses. His tone was almost disbelieving, his smile wide and bright.

Blaine grinned back, "Of course I did."

Kurt glanced around quickly, then darted in to press a kiss to Blaine's cheek.

...

"Thank you, again. For the song. It really was... amazing."

Blaine's lips curled in a soft, adoring smile.

"It was nothing," he shrugged.

Kurt shook his head, leaning over the console to curve his hand around Blaine's cheek, holding him in place.

"No, Blaine. It wasn't."

With a faltering smile Blaine murmured, "I know."

They both stared at each other for a long moment – memorising eyes and faces and the feel of it all. The overwhelming sensation of being with the person you loved. Of being able to touch them and know what it was like to have their skin and their pulse and their heartbeat under hand.

"You're perfect," Blaine blurted, breaking the silence.

"I love you," Kurt said.

They both leaned in, their lips close and soft and adoring. Hoping it would last forever.

...

"Dad? Carole? Anyone home?"

Kurt's voice echoed through the empty house, bouncing off walls and ringing in the ceiling.

"Just me then," he muttered, pulling his phone from his pocket. There was already a text from Blaine.

_I miss you._

He couldn't have dropped Kurt off more than a minute ago.

Biting his lip, Kurt hit reply, then typed, _Then don't leave. Nobody else is home. Stay for a while. Please._

His heart was already racing as he pressed 'send'.

Dropping his bag by the door, Kurt hurried to the living room to peer out the window, waiting for the sight of Blaine's car coming back down the street. Barely a minute had passed when he saw it. Blaine caught sight of Kurt in the window and shot him a grin as he pulled up by the curb, making the car stutter to a halt before he all but ripped open the door and jogged up the path to the house.

Kurt met him on the porch, mouth searching and hands grabbing, tugging Blaine closer until they'd stumbled across the threshold. Blaine kicked the front door closed behind him and then gasped as Kurt crowded him back against it, surging up to press their bodies close, a fierce desperation in his harsh, needy kisses.

"You-"

Blaine gasped as Kurt's teeth scraped over his bottom lip, kissing him one more time before pulling back to pant in short, hot breaths against his cheek.

"-are amazing," Blaine finished, gulping in warm air, eyes half-lidded and chest heaving.

"I don't want to leave you," Kurt said between breaths, forehead falling forward to rest on Blaine's temple.

Blaine lifted an arm to curl it around Kurt's shoulders, his other tightening on Kurt's waist and pulling him in, hugging him close and warm. Kurt hugged back just as hard, forehead still pressed to the side of Blaine's face where he could feel the tiny movements of his blinking, his swallowing, his shaky, shallow breathing.

Neither one of them said anything, both still trying to breathe, trying to slow their pounding hearts. But every time Kurt thought of leaving Blaine behind – of this being the last time they kissed, the last time they touched each other like this, the last time they-

It was impossible to imagine it.

"I don't want to leave," Kurt said again, his voice insistent and stubborn. "I want to be with you."

"Me too," Blaine answered, and that didn't help at all.

Neither did the kisses he was peppering on Kurt's ear, his cheek – any part of him that Blaine could reach. He pulled out of the hug a bit and bent down to kiss Kurt's neck and shoulders and across the top of his chest. The hand on Kurt's shoulder tugged in closer, pulling Kurt's body flush against Blaine's as he continued to kiss and press and lick tiny points of pleasure onto Kurt's neck, mapping every bit of skin, tracing over it all with his mouth like an artist.

Kurt let out a long breath, arms sliding up encircle Blaine's neck, fingertips picking at slicked-back hair, pinching at the gelled strands until they softened. Blaine was still worshipping his neck, and it was not quite enough and still entirely too much. The slow, gentle press as Blaine pushed Kurt back, guiding him along the hall to the bottom of the stairs was lost beneath the feel of him slipping two fingers up and down the bare skin of Kurt's spine, bumping down over vertebrae, circling around just above his belt and then sliding back up.

"Upstairs?" Blaine asked, as if it were still a question.

Kurt only nodded in reply, too breathless to say anything.

They stopped twice on the way up for Blaine to pull Kurt forward and against him, grinning up from where he stood a step down before wrenching Kurt in to kiss over his clothed chest, his stomach – wherever Blaine could reach. Kurt could feel himself shaking and he wasn't sure if it was the chill of the air con or the way Blaine seemed unable to stop touching him, to stop grabbing at his back and his hands and his shirt, even for a second.

"You're perfect," Blaine said again, and Kurt couldn't comprehend the agony in his voice, the need in his tone, the unbridled adoration in his eyes.

It was dangerous to love this much. To love beyond means and beyond logic, beyond the ability and desire to hold back. But the feel of his bed against the back of his knees made Kurt crumple back, giving in to it all.

He opened his arms for Blaine to fall into and he pressed their lips together, kissing full and strong and loving, fingers reaching down for Blaine's belt.

...

They heard Burt at the front door – heard him call for Kurt and listened as he moved around downstairs.

"I need to talk to him," Kurt said, "Tell him I'm leaving."

Blaine just nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around Kurt's body and kissing him soft and sweet on the neck.

...

"Blaine, you're staying for dinner tonight, aren't you?" Carole asked, kissing Burt's cheek on her way into the kitchen.

"Only if you let me help with the salad," Blaine insisted.

He moved to follow her and then turned back to Kurt. Grinning, he ducked in to kiss his cheek, a smiling repetition of Carole and Burt. Kurt rolled his eyes, shoving Blaine away with a smile.

On the couch by the TV, Burt pretended not to have seen.

...

Kurt and Blaine stood by Kurt's front door, blind to the beautiful, clear summer night as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Today was a good day," Blaine murmured, his thumb stroking soft and smooth against Kurt's hand.

"Yeah."

"Are you flying out tomorrow?"

Kurt nodded, eyes sad and scared.

Blaine didn't say anything, his hand gripping Kurt's tighter.

"We'll be fine," Kurt promised.

It was Blaine's turn to nod, stiff and slight – unsure, anxious.

There was no way to break the silence, no more promises to make or arguments to be had. They'd said all their 'I love you's, shared all their fears and secrets. They'd soothed one another's wounds, kissed and touched and loved their doubts away. Held on for so hard and so long and hoped and wished and wondered if it would all be enough. Or if this would be the end, and from now on everything would be different, somehow. Changed.

"Kurt, come on in, you've still got to pack for tomorrow!"

Burt's voice sounded from inside and Kurt and Blaine both sighed, tears in their eyes as they tried to comprehend losing _this_ – the chance to see other and touch each other. Blaine was starting to cry and so Kurt pulled him in close, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to notice how physically present Blaine was. Trying to ignore his warmth and his smell and the way his arms closed around Kurt like a blanket, wrapping him up, safe and utterly adored.

As they separated, Kurt ducked in to press a kiss against Blaine's lips, and for a second Blaine kissed back, so sweet that it hurt.

But it was too quick and too chaste and they didn't have _time_ any more, no more chances to speak or act or try, one last time, to convince one another that this was _real_ and _true_ and _forever._

"I love you," Kurt whispered.

Blaine's eyes were like a golden ocean - so vast and lonely – as he replied, "I love you too."

And that was it. What more could they do?

...

"Surprise!"

"Blaine! Wha-"

The end of Kurt's sentence was smothered as Blaine dove in to hug him, smile too big and eyes too wide.

"Hi."

"But- this is amazing! I wasn't expecting you for another two weeks."

Kurt took the flowers Blaine offered him, hands shaking and heart pounding and _yes_, this is what it felt like to be in love.

"I know. I just couldn't wait any longer. I- I miss you too much." Blaine was stammering and his smile had turned earnest and sweet and Kurt felt like his heart was bursting, everything too good, too much happiness was trying to fit into his one little body.

"Oh, I miss you too, it's so good to see you."

Blaine was already leaning in and _God_, Kurt was desperate for this, he needed it – Blaine being _here_ and _solid_ and _real_ – like he needed air. Their lips met, and he knew it was meant to be brief and sweet, just a 'hello, sweetie, I've missed you!' peck. But the feel of Blaine so close and kissing so surely, as if he'd missed this as much as Kurt had- it was like it trigged something within him, some primal recollection of what it's like to actually _kiss_ and suddenly it was fierce and hungry.

Kurt pushed harder and Blaine fell back a bit, before straightening to match his eagerness. Kurt's hands moved of their own accord, sliding down Blaine's arm with every intention of grabbing onto him and pulling him closer. And Blaine felt so perfect against him that in that moment Kurt understood why Blaine always felt the need to _say_ it. Because the boy who was before him - the boy now being pulled away into Rachel's arms for a hug - was _stunning._ Blaine was practically glowing in the orange light of the hall, so bright and golden that he looked precious like a jewel.

All Kurt wanted was to kick Finn and Rachel out and kiss Blaine again and again – to tell him about his life here and the perfectly Blaine-shaped gap that he just couldn't wait fill next year. He wanted to ignore the temptations and the hurt and all the times he's thought 'what if'. He just wanted Blaine, every flaw and every blemish. He just wanted _Blaine,_ all to himself for the rest of his life.

...

Once Rachel and Finn have withdrawn back to the couch, Blaine moves to follow, but Kurt grabs his hand to stop him.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, and presses another kiss to Blaine's cheek.

* * *

**A/N: I still need eight more prompts, so please keep them coming!**


	4. Dates

**Last Ten**

Dates

(prompted by darrenchris6)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

"Kurt. I wasn't expecting you to be online."

Kurt's smiled faltered a bit, and he asked, "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

"No!" Blaine hastily replied, pushing aside his Calculus book. "It's a great time, we haven't talked in ages. How are you? How's New York? Is the job still fabulous as always?"

Grinning, Kurt's eyes were affectionate as he listened to Blaine's myriad questions, but once they were over he simply shook his head and said, "Urgh, no, enough about me. All I ever talk about is New York these days. I just called because I want to hang out with you."

Blaine nodded eagerly, "Yeah, sure. Hanging out would be great too. Only, um... how do we do that, exactly? On Skype?"

"Uh... we could watch TV? Tonight's 'Treme' night, right? So maybe you could put that on and we could criticise it together. Or just watch it together. Like old times."

"Only, without the making out," Blaine added.

Kurt pouted, "But that was my favourite part!"

"Mine too. I'll go make the popcorn."

They reconvened a few minutes later, Blaine armed with a bowl or popcorn and Kurt with a packet of it that he'd dug of the cupboard. It was Rachel's crappy, healthy, organic stuff, he'd said with a sour expression, but it would have to do. Blaine took another minute to change into his pyjamas (and if he lingered in front of the camera in a slightly-less-than-fully-clothed stage then that wasn't really anyone's business but his and Kurt's), and soon enough they were both set up in front of Blaine's TV. Kurt's face was set as he watched the opening sequence, and when, two minutes in, he and Blaine were in a deep discussion about the importance of incorporating zydeco music into popular culture, it kind of sort of felt like normal. Like a real date.

Except with no making out.

...

"It's 'Treme' time!"

Blaine looked at his clock – was it that late already? He glanced at the growing pile of homework on his desk, then back at his boyfriend's excited smile.

"Great," he said. "I'll go get the popcorn."

...

"Oh, God, Blaine – I'm so sorry. Have you been waiting up for long?"

Blaine sighed into the receiver, ignoring the pitch black sky outside his window and the glowing numbers on his clock.

"No, it's fine. I was awake anyway."

"Don't lie to me," Kurt said, "I know I'm keeping you up late. You shouldn't wait for me to get home. It's just that things are crazy at work right now. Isabelle thinks that there might be a market for a second music video ad, and she's saying that with this one they might give me a budget and everything. Isn't that great?"

"It sounds fantastic, Kurt," Blaine yawned, settling back against his pillow.

"That's what I thought! And, naturally Rachel wants to play another starring role in it, which Isabelle might actually just go for if I introduce them properly. And that would be amazing, wouldn't it? If, as well as forwarding my career, I could do something for Rachel as well. I mean, New York is fabulous and I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it's tough to make it here, I can see that already. But with an opportunity like this, it'd be plain ridiculous to give it up..."

"Mmmhmm."

"Blaine?"

"Mmm, Kurt."

"Honey, are you asleep?"

"Nuhh."

Kurt smiled at Blaine's incomprehensible response.

"Blaine, I feel like I'm keeping you up."

"R'not. I want to- ...you talk- uhm..."

"Okay, I'll keep talking then. Have I told you about this boy, Brody, that Rachel's been spending time with?"

Blaine shook his head, smiling as Kurt dove into another story. He snuggled deeper into his sheets, letting the sound of his boyfriend's voice lull him to sleep.

...

"I'm sorry, I know it's late and you're probably just in the bathroom or something and were waiting up for me to call. But it's fine, really, because I can't actually talk. So I'm kind of just calling to say that I can't call. But we can reschedule our next phone-date, right? How about tomorrow night or- no, wait, the next day, maybe? And you would've been calling me then anyway, so what if I just call you instead and it'll be fine. I love you!"

...

"I can't talk for long, sorry."

Blaine smiled as Kurt's face appeared on the computer screen. His hair was done up perfectly and a smart, white shirt was visible at his collar. The sight of one of his own bowties encircling his boyfriend's neck made Blaine smile even wider.

"You look great," he said, "Busy night?"

"About to have a busy night," Kurt clarified, his eyes unfocussed as he looked at something on the other side of his computer screen. "Rachel's insisting we go out to Callbacks with Brody. She wants to do a duet. Or fifty."

"Well, who can blame her, with a singing partner like you."

"Oh, no – she doesn't want to sing with me." Kurt seemed to be on autopilot as he responded to Blaine, still clearly doing something else as he continued on, "She wants to sing with Brody. And I would too, if I didn't have already have a wonderful and far more attractive male duet partner."

He grinned momentarily, eyes glancing to what Blaine assumed was his side of screen for a brief moment.

"I feel like I'm keeping you..." Blaine hinted, hoping that Kurt would look his way again and maybe they could talk properly for a second.

"Oh, don't worry. You're not really. Rachel's still fussing with her hair. And I'm just trying to book these tickets online... so I can talk to you at the same time, it's really no problem."

Blaine wondered if he wanted to remind Kurt that this was supposed to be primarily date time, not booking-something-online-and-also-taking-to-Blaine time.

"What are the tickets for?" he asked instead, biting his tongue as he watched his boyfriend continue to ignore him. He wondered if Kurt would even notice if Blaine had another person in his room, or was naked, or standing on his head. Or all three.

"Um..." Kurt was clearly concentrating hard, moving the mouse with his hand out of sight. "This fashion show thing. It's sort of big deal, but Isabelle said if I booked in as- hang on..." he was silent, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated hard on whatever he was reading.

Blaine sat awkwardly at his own computer, moving his hand to fiddle with a pen on his desk.

"Look, Blaine," Kurt was speaking again, and Blaine glanced back up, thankful to see that finally his boyfriend's full attention actually seemed to be on him. "This is more complicated than I thought it'd be. Can I Skype you back in a few minutes? I just have to call Isabelle."

Blaine nodded, "Yeah, that's fine. I have some, um, homework to finish off anyway."

"Thanks," Kurt smiled, "love you!"

Smiling stiffly in response, Blaine stayed silent, watching as Kurt ended the call.

Blaine leant back in his chair, glancing at his clock. It was 10:30 now – he'd give Kurt half an hour to call back, and then go to bed.

Two hours later, Kurt still hadn't called, and it was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Blaine signed out of Skype and Facebook, lifting his computer down onto the floor beside his bed. He tried to remember what it was like when Kurt used to fall asleep with him here. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't picture it at all.

...

"Hey! You've reached Kurt Hummel. I can't answer my phone right now for some reason, but if you leave a message I might call back. You never know. Thanks!"

"Um, hi, Kurt. It's Blaine. We were supposed to Skype tonight but, uh, I guess you're busy. No problem. I'm just- well, I'm probably going to bed now. School tomorrow and stuff. So, we'll talk later. Bye."

"Hey! You've reached Kurt Hummel. I can't answer my phone right now for some reason, but if you leave a message I might call back. You never know. Thanks!"

"I just left a message. This isn't an extra one. It's just that I realised that I forgot to say I love you. And I do. So, yeah. I love you. We'll talk soon."

...

"I'm so sorry I'm late."

It had become something of a greeting of Kurt's, those five words. And Blaine wouldn't mind – really, he wouldn't – if only they weren't said quite so often.

"Don't worry," he started to say, "It's fi-"

But it wasn't fine.

Kurt wasn't _there_ for him these days, and not just at stupid, silly times when Blaine just wanted to call and say hello, but at important times too. Kurt was missing pre-ordained, organised times: Skype dates that they'd set aside, the 10 minutes every other night that they'd promised to leave just for each other. It wasn't so much to ask, was it? It wasn't unfair for Blaine to be annoyed, just a little, that Kurt couldn't even spare those measly little minutes of his day, right?

"It's not fine, actually," Blaine said, trying to keep his voice even, trying not to sound angry.

Because he wasn't _angry_, not really. He was just lonely – acutely so – and for some reason he'd come to expect that Kurt would be able to heal that loneliness, even from far away. Somehow, he'd been sure that Kurt would always be able to make him feel better.

"Blaine?" Kurt's tone was immediately concerned, and it broke Blaine's heart a little to know that he'd made Kurt so worried. "Is everything all right?"

"Of course everything's all right," Blaine sighed. "I'm just-"

"Yes?"

But he couldn't say it. After all the complaints, all the frustration and ache that was building up inside him, suddenly Blaine realised that, for the first time, Kurt wasn't helping. Not now. Not from so far away.

"I have to go."

"Why? Are you sure nothing's wrong?" Kurt asked.

And, really, Blaine _was_ angry, now. Because Kurt- if Kurt had just _been there_ – if he'd been listening instead of going on and on about his new life all the time, if he'd bothered to pay one bit of attention to Blaine over the past few weeks he'd know without even having to ask that _yes, Kurt, something was very, very wrong_. But Kurt had no idea. He was sitting there in New York, living his dream life and not needing Blaine in it. Not even realising how much it hurt for Blaine to hear that from him over and over again.

"Everything's fine," Blaine lied, his tone flat. "I just have to do- uh... something. Glee club stuff."

Kurt sounded dubious as he said, "Okay. Should we reschedule our phone date 'til later then? I can call you back when you're not busy any more."

"No. It's fine. You don't need to- uh, this has been a good enough date. A great date. I'm just- I have to go. Bye, Kurt."

"Bye, I lo-" the dial tone was already sounding, and Blaine had picked up his jacket and left the room before Kurt had the chance to say one last I love you.

...

"Blaine? Are you there and just not picking up? Or are you really not there at all? And if you're not there at all, where the hell are you, because I've called like fifty times in the past two hours and- look, I guess it's not my business. Unless you're mad at me or something. In which case I'm sorry, really, although I don't know exactly know what for.

"It's just that it sort of feels like maybe you weren't telling me something, before. You know, the other night? And it sort of feels like you're avoiding me. I want you to be able to tell me everything, Blaine. I've always wanted that, even when we still just friends. So please, if you are avoiding me, please stop. I've missed you for the last few nights.

"I miss you all the time.

"So, I'm sorry if I've done something wrong, and please feel free to talk to me if there's anything at all that I should know. Or just something that you want to get off your chest, or whatever.

"I love you. Bye."

...

"Hey! You've reached Kurt Hummel. I can't answer my phone right now for some reason, but if you leave a message I might call back. You never know. Thanks!"

"I love you too. _So_ much. And I'm so sorry that I've been missing dates. But you missed this one, so maybe we're even!

"That was a joke. Sorry. It was pretty awful.

"Um, but, yeah. Nothing's wrong, so please don't worry about me. Keep having a fantastic time. I'll be there with you before you know it.

"Did I mention that I love you? Because I do, Kurt. So fucking much that it hurts."

...

The flowers were in a vase on the windowsill and Rachel, Finn, Kurt and Blaine were scattered on the couch and floor when the conversation finally died down and Blaine asked, eyes bright and curious, "So, what are we doing tonight?"

"Callbacks!" Rachel sang in response, bouncing on the cushions to emphasise her excitement. "And we should go now, really. Otherwise the waiting list for karaoke will take _forever."_

With that, she jumped off the couch, holding up a hand to pull Finn up too. His lack of enthusiasm was utterly lost on Rachel, who then offered her other hand to Blaine, wiggling her fingers when he paused before grabbing it and letting her haul him off the floor.

Kurt got up before Rachel had a chance to figure out how she could hold all three boys' hands, rolling his eyes at Finn when he shot him a nervous look. Sidling up beside Blaine, Kurt delicately extracted his boyfriend's hand from Rachel's, taking it in his own.

"Don't worry," Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear. "The night will fly by. Then we can have a proper date tomorrow."

"This doesn't count as a proper date?" Blaine asked, letting Kurt and himself fall behind as Rachel hurried Finn out the door and started downstairs to the street.

Kurt raised his eyebrows, "Do you want it to count?"

Blaine grinned, "I want all the dates I can get with you."

* * *

**Still in need of 5 more prompts, so wrack your minds for them, please!**


	5. Hugs

**Last Ten**

Hugs

(prompted by It'sNotUnusual)

...

by padfoot

* * *

"_...Don't you understand  
I'm never changing who I am."_

"I'm going to miss you so much."

...

"That was amazing, you know."

"What was?"

"The song. The dance. The double-dutching and the slow-motion running."

Blaine blushed, turning away and touching his cheek self-consciously.

"I'm serious," Kurt pushed, picking Blaine's hand off his cheek and holding it tight. "_You're_ amazing. Always."

...

"I can't believe this is the last time I'll be in your car."

"That's not necessarily true," Blaine argued, "I might bring it to New York with me when I come and join you and Rachel."

Kurt looked around at the torn, stained seat cover, the gear-stick that always got stuck, the raggedy edges of the seatbelts...

"I'm joking, this piece of junk is staying here or going to the junkyard when I leave. Or maybe I can sell it. Add some money to the 'New York Dreams' jar. Never know what we might be able to do with the hundred bucks or so that I'll get."

"I really only have one New York dream, and I'm pretty sure it's free," Kurt pointed out.

"NYADA?"

"No. You."

Blaine smiled, leaning in to hug Kurt close and tight.

"Consider it granted," he whispered.

...

Blaine jumped at the feel of arms encircling his waist, relaxing when the smell of Kurt surrounded him and he was pulled back against a familiar chest.

"I told my Dad that I'm leaving," Kurt said.

"What did he say?"

"That he'll miss me. And that he'll drive me to the airport tomorrow."

Blaine tried to twist in Kurt's arms, settling for craning his neck to look up at his boyfriend's face.

"Tomorrow?" he repeated.

"I'm already packed," Kurt shrugged. "There's no reason for waiting, I guess."

Blaine turned back to the bench, suddenly uninterested in the carrots he was meant to be chopping.

"I can think of a reason," he muttered.

Kurt just exhaled a stiff laugh, pressing his lips to Blaine's hair and pulling him closer, trying to memorise the feel of him, warm and solid and _real_, in his arms.

...

"I don't want to go."

"I don't want you to go either."

"But you _sang_ to me about leaving, Blaine. I distinctly remember-"

"I was lying."

Kurt gaped in mock horror, "You lied in song? I didn't think it was possible."

"Yep, I lied. Your lips didn't look delicious either, while I'm confessing things."

"Jerk."

"I'm kidding, Kurt. Of course. Your lips always look delicious. And so does your neck. And your collarbone. And your chest. And your ribs. And your tummy. And hips. And your-"

"Okay! Let's stop there. Now quick, hug me goodbye before my Dad catches on to what you were talking about."

...

"Blaine.

"Blaine, let go of me. Blaine, I have a plane to catch tomorrow. _Early_ tomorrow. Blaine.

"Blaine, I simply _cannot_ walk around for the rest of my life with the boyfriend hanging around my neck. It wouldn't be practical.

"Blaine, I need the use of my upper body for everyday life. And as much as I will miss you and as much as I love you, this really can't go on for much longer. The neighbours will start to stare."

...

"Hey, Kurt, why are you two still out here?" The sound of his Dad's voice made Kurt start, lifting his head from where it rested on top of Blaine's. "I thought Blaine headed off an hour or two ago."

"He was meant to," Kurt explained. "But then I hugged him goodbye and uh- he didn't seem to want to let go. He's fallen asleep now, if that's any help."

Burt chuckled, smiling at the affectionate glare that his son shot his snoozing boyfriend.

"Well, we'll take him upstairs. He can hardly drive home like that, can he?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows and asked, "You mean you're giving me permission to have a boy in my bed? A boy who's my boyfriend, no less?"

"He's out like a light, Kurt. And I trust the moment he regains enough consciousness to drive himself home, you'll show him the way out."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Just don't get up to anything. Leaving's going to be hard enough for the two of you already. Do you need help picking him up?"

A small smile curved on Kurt's lips. His father's ignorance was sometimes incredible to behold. Clearly he had no idea at just how often Kurt had held Blaine up. Pressed against walls, doors, a mirror that one time...

"Nah, I'll be fine. Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, Kurt."

...

"Do you need a hug?"

"Blaine, we're Skype-ing, I don't exactly think you can- oh. Right."

"Feel better yet?"

"_So _much better."

...

"Surprise!"

"Blaine! Wha-"

"Hi."

...

They walked all the way to Callbacks with their arms around each other. As if they couldn't hold on tight enough, couldn't get their bodies close enough.

"God, I love you," Blaine whispered, his breath hot in Kurt's ear.

* * *

**Still room for 3 more prompts! And also, if everyone could just suggest a reality TV show with their review, it would really help with the next chapter. :)**


	6. Reality TV Shows Watched

**Last Ten**

Reality TV Shows Watched

(prompted by Becca)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

"Kurt, this is ridiculous. I mean, sure, I watch a bit of reality TV sometimes when I must. But I'm not going to sit here for a day when it's a lovely day outside and just watch-"

"I'll make lunch if you watch this," Kurt interrupted. Blaine stopped, halfway through a sentence, eyes narrowed. "And it will be a chicken salad and I'll do the spicy chicken that you love. And there will be croutons, baked and with the tiniest bit of oil so they they're crispy and healthy. Which means you can eat as many as you want and I no one will judge you."

Blaine's eyes were still narrowed.

"Keep talking," he advised.

Kurt smiled. "And we'll go outside in the afternoon. You can tell me about cloud shapes and types and colours and I'll 'ooh' and 'aah' and pretend to be interested. But really I'll be thinking you're a massive dork and be so, so glad that at least you're pretty."

"Hey!"

Now Kurt's grin was wide, and he flicked the TV on as he slid over to Blaine's side, chest pressed against the length of Blaine' arm as he leant in towards him.

"But you are very pretty," Kurt repeated.

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Kurt, I am not this easy to convince! I have standards, you know. Deep-lying, fundamental, morally-sound- umph."

Blaine was cut off by Kurt's lips pressing against his as the opening music to his show trilled in the background.

And maybe, Blaine thought, this wasn't such a bad initiation to the realm of reality TV.

...

"Kurt, you convinced me to watch _one_ show, and now that we've done that, I really think you should just be satisfied that I bent to your will and maybe this week we can actually go outside for a change instead of sitting around in here and- umph!"

With Kurt's persuasion, Blaine changed his mind. Because, sometimes, sitting around inside had some very definite benefits.

...

"I hope she falls over. I hope she falls over and breaks her ankle or her knee or maybe both knees..." Kurt trails off, still muttering under his breath, paying no heed to Blaine's startled expression.

"That seems a bit, uh... violent, don't you think?" Blaine asks. "I mean, she wasn't that mean-"

"She is a _bitch_, Blaine. No confidence in what she wears – just total arrogance. Total disrespect for the designers. And besides, _I_ could wear most of the clothes she models better than she could."

Blaine opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it again, looking away, a blush staining his cheeks. Because there maybe might have been a little part of him that would _so_ like to see Kurt in those figure-hugging leather pants and a barely-there swathe of material for a top.

...

Watching Kurt watch Project Runway was one of Blaine's favourite things to do. In the least creepy way possible.

"Oh, go for that one- no, no! The _chiffon_, not the _silk_- urgh! Well, what's _she_ going to do with velvet, huh? I mean, Kimberley knows nothing about getting the drape right and the textures- God, Blaine, it's just so _obvious_, isn't it? How do they find it so difficult to-?"

And then he was off again, injecting questions here and there, which Blaine had worked out pretty quickly that thankfully he wasn't expected to answer.

It was just so... wonderful. To see Kurt in his element like this. The only other time he seemed so sure of himself, so comfortable with himself, was when he was singing – eyes closed, shutting out the world, voice ringing to drown out every bit of opposition, every ounce of hatred he'd ever encountered. It was beautiful.

...

"And welcome to reality TV fest 2012, where we will showcase the best and the worst of reality TV. So sit back, grab some popcorn and relax – these next few hours are going to be killers!"

Rachel stepped back from the centre of the room to join Mercedes and Kurt on the couch, everyone turning to look expectantly at the TV as, on the floor, Blaine pointed the remote and pressed power.

The first show was Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

It started bad.

It only got worse.

Blaine was leaning back away from the TV, his eyes fixed on it but narrowed to the extreme as he tried to block out the pictures. Mercedes was staring, her mouth agape, clearly horrified by what she saw. Rachel was busy eating popcorn from the bowl, searching for kernels at the bottom. Kurt stared resolutely at the carpet at his feet, trying to shut out the 6 year-old's shrill voice as she introduced her family.

"This is disgusting," Blaine said, when finally they were offered the mercy of an ad break.

"Seconded!" Mercedes called.

Kurt nodded, sliding off the couch to sit beside his boyfriend.

Rachel, only now looking up from her popcorn pursuits, raised her eyebrows questioningly, "What's wrong with it?"

Blaine shuddered where he sat, and Kurt wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Blaine's right," he said. "I like to indulge in a bit of escapism as much as the next person-"

"Maybe more than the next person," Mercedes interjected.

"-but this is just- it's not right. It's disgusting." Kurt finished.

"It's just TV," Rachel argued, "What harm does it do?"

"It makes it look like this is okay," Blaine spoke up, gesturing to the TV and shrugging out of Kurt's arms as he turned to face Rachel. "It's perpetuating this lifestyle, it's making it okay for parents to get their kids high on caffeine and dress them up like- like prostitutes , as long as they get a big trophy at the end. They gave a TV show to these people! They are rewarding these parents for making terrible choices about their children's lives. And us – we're having it sold to us, having it giving to us as entertainment. It's like these people are animals at a zoo and we're peering through the bars and laughing at them. It's awful, Rachel. Awful in an _awful_ way, not in a so-bad-it's-goodway."

Rachel was silent for a few moments, and when the show came on again Blaine turned the TV off at the monitor with a decisive click.

"We move on," he said. "Or I'm leaving."

Rachel looked grumpily resigned, but there was a little shred of guilt behind her eyes.

"Fine," she conceded. "Next show."

...

"'Dance Moms'? Rachel, this doesn't sound any better than the last one."

"No, no, it is! These girls only work about as hard as I do. _And_ they have a mother to encourage them, which can only be a good thing, right?"

Blaine, Kurt and Mercedes look sceptical.

They were about 5 minutes in when Kurt, still on the floor, muttered something in Blaine's ear. Blaine nodded and reached for the remote.

"Next?" he asked.

"Next," Rachel agreed.

...

"Now, _this _is my kind of reality TV," Kurt said, settling back against Blaine's chest. Blaine hummed in agreement, his gaze on the thin curve of Kurt's neck and the golden strands of his hair.

"What, Blaine, no objections?" Rachel asked, sounding more than a little put out.

Blaine shrugged. "As long as there's no uncomfortably under-dressed, make-up clad, crying children, I couldn't care less what we're watching."

"I don't think that hurts," Mercedes whispered, pointing to where Kurt's hand was tracing up and down Blaine's thigh.

Rachel pouted, flopping back into the couch with a frustrated huff.

...

"You're going to love this show – it's fantastic," Kurt promised, wriggling in Blaine's lap as he turned to face him.

Blaine bit his lip, not saying anything but simply nodding in reply.

Kurt turned back around, grinning widely. Too widely.

He'd insist to his dying that it was totally necessary for him to wedge himself back harder against Blaine. And if maybe his hands strayed too far up Blaine's thigh over the next half hour, well, so be it. It certainly convinced Rachel and Mercedes to excuse themselves and leave the house promptly once the TV show was over.

...

"American Idol?" Blaine asked. "Really?"

Kurt blushed. "It's not bad this season," he said defensively.

But he was lying. What 'wasn't bad' this season was the cute Texan with bright blue eyes and a smooth, even voice, crooning country ballads as he strummed his guitar. Not that Blaine had any strong objections.

...

"There's this new show..." Kurt began, trailing off with a wide-eyed, lip-biting, almost-begging look that he knew Blaine couldn't resist.

"_Kurt_," Blaine sighed, "You're leaving tomorrow. Can't we just have one night to you know, do- do _our_ stuff. I'm going to miss that stuff."

Kurt's answering expression was one of mock horror.

"You're not going to miss watching reality TV with me?! But Blaine, you _love _Jersey Shore!"

Blaine chuckled, reaching out to pull Kurt closer to him, further away from the TV on Kurt's mantle.

"No," he corrected, leaning up until he mouth was inches from Kurt's. "I love _you_. And you love Jersey Shore."

He closed the distance between them and kissed Kurt softly, lingeringly, slipping his tongue out to tease at the seam of Kurt's lips before pulling back.

Kurt's expression was torn, and he glanced back over his shoulder at the TV when Blaine started to pull him closer. Blaine groaned, letting go of Kurt and flopping back onto the bed without him.

"What about a compromise?" Kurt offered, sliding further up the bed so he could look Blaine in the eyes. "I put on the TV show, and then we watch it from here. And if it's boring then you're absolutely allowed to distract me however you want. I promise."

Blaine's bottom lip was jutting out, but Kurt just poked at it with a finger, that begging look back on his face.

"_Fine_," Blaine said, drawing the word out.

Kurt grinned and leant down to kiss him quickly on the nose.

"Thank you!" he sung, skipping over to the TV. "You won't regret this, I promise!"

Blaine did end up regretting it. Kind of.

Because of course this viewing ended up much as they usually did. With Blaine sitting back, eyes feasting on the slip of skin visible at Kurt's shoulder, the shining strands of hair that had escaped from the mob at the back of his head. And Kurt – his eyes fastened on the television. Pretending not to notice that desperate pull, tugging at his heart and his body. The energy that made him gravitate towards the boy leaning just behind him, half-naked against the bed head. That made him glance back, his eyes meeting Blaine's in an age-old way – a way that made them both know that they couldn't look away.

"I'm never going to know how this episode finishes," Kurt whined.

Blaine didn't reply. He just laughed into the dip of Kurt's throat, before covering it in kisses.


	7. Sweets Shared

**Last Ten**

Sweets Shared

(prompted by ThatChicThatLikesToSing and emmrZep)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

"Hey, Blaine, could you try this for me."

"But Kurt, argh-!"

Kurt watched on with a smile as Blaine tried to speak around the wooden spoon that had been shoved in his mouth. He could see the moment when the sweet-tasting batter settled on his tongue, and watched with satisfaction as his struggling stopped.

"Is it good?" Kurt asked.

Blaine made a noise of affirmation.

...

"Blaine, one ice cream is not going to kill you."

"I know."

"Then why can't we go get ice creams?"

"We have fruit salad right here, and sparkling cider to go with it. The ice cream is _all_ the way over there."

"That's not more than a hundred feet away. And buying the ice cream will give us enough energy to walk _all the way_ back here to our rug and finish our picnic, without dying from heat exhaustion."

"Do you not like the fruit salad, Kurt? Is that what this is about?"

"I love the fruit salad. Of course I do. I love it even more when you feed it to me. But as sexy as warm strawberries are, ice cream, right now, would be so much sexier."

...

Kurt got an icy pole. Like always.

And he was licking it and sucking on it and sticky juice was melting on his lips and then his tongue was sweeping over to clean it off. And Blaine was watching, feeling like a complete... sleaze about the dirty, dirty thoughts running through his head.

"You see," Kurt said with a wicked grin. "Ice cream was a great idea."

And oh god he _so_ knew he was doing this to Blaine.

...

"Redvine?"

Blaine grinned as he held up the packet.

Folded up neatly on Blaine's bed, eyes fixed on the latest novel he'd immersed himself in, Kurt shuddered delicately.

"No, thank you," he replied.

Blaine shrugged and pulled out two sweets for himself.

...

There may or may not have been substantial amounts of cookie dough inside Kurt's shirt. He wasn't yet sure if he was allowed to admit to that, given that Carole was standing in the kitchen doorway, looking accusingly between him and Blaine.

"What happened here?" she asked, trying to be firm.

Blaine pointed wordlessly at Kurt. Kurt immediately gaped, shook his head and pointed defiantly back.

Carole watched on, schooling her expression to stay angry, as the boys broke down into a fit of giggles.

"How about I don't blame either of you, and both of you get around to cleaning it up. Now."

"Yes, Carole," they chorused.

She nodded and left the room.

"Is that cookie dough in your hair?" Kurt asked, moving closer to Blaine and plucking a chocolate chip from his curls.

"You've got some on your face," Blaine pointed out, reaching a thumb across to wipe at Kurt's cheek, then his forehead, then his nose.

Kurt could feel the oily batter streak across his skin and he scrunched up his nose at the sensation.

"Urgh. I don't know if I have the skin care products to get rid of all this."

Blaine grinned. Licked his lips.

"I'm sure I can help with that," he offered.

Kurt smiled back.

"There's cookie dough in my shirt too. Kind of feels like it's smudged all over my chest."

Blaine tongue darted out of his mouth again, soft and pink and-

"And probably down my pants too, let's face it. That's a lot of helping you'll have to do to clean me up."

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Blaine leant in close to Kurt's ear, his nose tickling his boyfriend's hair.

"I'm here to help," he murmured, voice deep and husky.

Then Kurt shrieked. Blaine chuckled. And continued licking a long, wet line down his boyfriend's cheek.

...

"Redvine?"

Kurt and Blaine were sitting at the lunch table at McKinley, Kurt feeling more out of place in the school than he ever had before.

"Not today," he said, shaking his head.

"You say that every time," Blaine pouted.

"And on the day you give me a Redvine as part of an offer that I can't refuse, I'll finally have one. Until then though..."

Kurt trailed off, going back to his sandwich. Opposite him, Blaine frowned, biting into the Redvine absent-mindedly.

His eyes were on the table, his brow furrowed as he repeated under his breath, "An offer you can't refuse."

...

"I know I was the one who told you go, but now all I can think of is things I'll miss."

Blaine's tone was light, but his eyes were serious as he watched Kurt move around his room, picking up clothes and photos and books, trying to organise them into his already stuffed-full suitcase. Blaine was sitting on Kurt's bed, oh-so-classily wearing only his jeans and a towel that Kurt had thrown at him earlier, back when they'd been cleaning up.

"You can't do this now, Blaine," Kurt warned. "You have a lot of power, you know. You used it to convince me to go, so don't use it to un-convince me." He stopped his rapid movement, fixing his gaze on his boyfriend. "I can't get my mind around leaving you twice. Please don't make me do it again."

"I know. I won't. I'm sorry," Blaine said hastily, reaching out to brush his knuckles over Kurt's cheek. "I just. I don't _want _you to go. I'll never want you to go. But I know that you need to go. For you, mostly. Also for me and for Rachel. But mostly for you. For your life, and your dreams. And your happiness."

"I'm happy here," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine smiled sadly, letting his hand drop from Kurt's face.

"No, you're not," he simply replied.

There was silence for a while as Kurt recommenced his packing and Blaine kept watching on.

"Do you want to know what I'm going to miss the most?" Blaine asked, and Kurt shot him an exaggeratedly significant look, his eyebrows raised.

Blaine laughed and corrected himself, "Well, what I'll miss most _other_ than that."

"Go on."

"Your cooking. The cakes and muffins and cookies. And cookie dough," he added with a grin.

Kurt paused again, turning to face him. He seemed to ponder for a moment before moving closer and sliding over on the bed to kneel before Blaine.

"If that's really true, then I have a surprise for you."

"A good surprise?"

"A great surprise."

Blaine was positively beaming now, practically buzzing with excitement.

Kurt laughed, stroked a hand down his boyfriend's side and loosely gripped his hand.

"I've left a box of cookies with Dad and Carole. Downstairs, on the kitchen bench. And, next to that box, as another one that says 'Blaine' on it. If you get dressed first, you can go get your box now- wait, Blaine- no! I said _if you get dressed first_!"

Blaine was out the door and downstairs and back upstairs and inside again in under a minute. Kurt was still sitting on the bed, waiting for the shocked scream of some poor family member witnessing Blaine streaking past half-naked, box of cookies held close to his chest.

"Can I have on now?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged.

Blaine opened the box, taking out a coconut cookie and breaking it in half. He handed one half to Kurt and kept one for himself.

"Thank you," he said, tone small and sweet.

Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately and didn't say anything.

...

"Redvine?"

Kurt groaned into the pillow that his face buried in and managed to grumble out, "No. More. Sugar."

Blaine laughed, the vibrations shaking the bed and making Kurt let out another sound of discomfort.

"I hate you," he mumbled half-heartedly.

"They were your cookies," Blaine pointed out.

"You fed them to me. Too many. They were meant to last a month. At least."

Blaine was grinning, and still bouncing where he sat as he chewed on a Redvine.

"Oops."

...

Kurt awoke from his sugar-induced coma to the feel of Blaine's feather-light touch on his hips, soft, small kisses being placed along his back.

He sighed into the pillow, heart thumping at the sweet, natural feel of Blaine's body, curved over his.

"Sugar-hangover?" Blaine's voice asked from somewhere further down the bed.

Kurt nodded, letting out a small noise when Blaine's lips moved to kiss where his fingers had just been stroking – little spirals and patterns on the back of Kurt's hips, a long line across his back, a nudge and a lick into the dimple at the bottom of his spine.

"Not that I'm complaining," Kurt mumbled. "But what are you doing back there?"

His skin tingled as Blaine traced another long trail up his back, fingertips bumping over vertebrae.

"Finishing the cookies," Blaine replied, oh-so-casually. "The chocolate chips melted a bit. I had to improvise."

His kisses followed another trail up Kurt's back. Kurt couldn't even work up the energy to be mad. Instead he gasped as Blaine's tongue touched his skin, licking, tasting. Bumping over vertebrae.

...

"Redvine?"

On the computer screen, Kurt laughed, his voice tinny and echoing, but none the less beautiful for the time and distance that lay between them.

"You know I'm never going to eat one of those. They taste like cough medicine."

Blaine shrugged, biting into one himself.

"Not to me they don't," he said.

"Each to his own," Kurt muttered.

Blaine grinned, strips of red still stuck to his teeth. He chuckled at Kurt's disdainful expression.

"One day," he started, his tone almost a challenge, "I will convince you to eat one of these. And I promise it will be the best day of your life."

Kurt looked sceptical.

"Just you wait," Blaine promised. "You'll see."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry I stopped writing for a while. The thing is that the moment I stop, I find it really hard to start again. So I just have to not stop. And for that to happen, I need more prompts. Remember, only one per customer, so choose wisely!**


	8. Songs Sung

**Last Ten**

Songs Sung in the Car Together

(prompted by SergeantGullible12)

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

...

I Want To Hold Your Hand – The Beatles

...

They were driving back Kurt's place after Glee practice when Blaine broke the sleepy silence in the car, turning to Kurt and saying, "I didn't know people sang to their families in Glee club. We all dedicate songs to each other often enough but, I don't know, singing to family... is that normal?"

Mercedes had finished off their rehearsal with a ballad for her father, who was going in for surgery on the weekend.

"I mean, it was a beautiful song and a really nice gesture but- I just didn't know people did that. I don't think I'd feel very comfortable singing about my family in there. It was bad enough when Cooper came over, and it's not like anything I sang then was in front of everyone."

Kurt shrugged, "It happens sometimes," he answered. "I sang to my Dad when he was in hospital the year before last."

"Really?" Blaine looked surprised. "You never told me that. What did you sing?"

"_I Want To Hold Your Hand_."

"That would've been amazing."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't horrible," he admitted.

"Could you sing it now?"

"Here? For you?"

When Kurt looked over to see if Blaine was serious, he was met with his boyfriend's wide, amber eyes, staring back expectantly.

"I won't be very good," he hedged.

Laughing Blaine said, "Now you're just trying to be modest. Come on, please?"

"_Yeah, I'll tell you something  
I think you'll understand.  
When I say that something  
I want to hold your hand..._"

...

Breaking Free - High School Musical Cast

...

The sun shone brightly above them, looking down from a clear, blue sky. It was the first day of what was going to be a perfect summer. A summer where they'd decided no one would talk about NYADA or New York or Rachel. The last summer where they could really, truly just be them – high school sweethearts, completely and utterly in love.

Kurt and Blaine were spread out on the bonnet of Blaine's car, leaning back against the windscreen. Between them were a picnic basket and two bottles of water, and before them nothing but an empty park, the grass shining emerald green beneath the almost too-bright sun. And they were blissfully, perfectly, wonderfully alone.

"I'd ask how you found this place, but then maybe you'd tell me it isn't real and the fantasy would die," Kurt murmured, looking down at Blaine's head, resting on his shoulder.

"I'd tell you how I found this place," Blaine countered, "But then I'd have to kill you. And that would an awful waste."

Kurt laughed softly, tipping his head sideways to settle it on top of Blaine's. The crunchy feel of hair-gel under his cheek made Kurt scrunch up his nose, but he stayed there all the same, absently lifting a hand to play with the soft, gel-free strands at the back of Blaine's neck.

Inside the car, the song changed on Blaine's iPod, and Kurt stifled a giggle as he recognised the opening notes.

"You have _this_ on your iPod?" he asked, tone sceptical.

On his shoulder, he could feel Blaine smile, "Of course I do."

"But you're not going to sing along to it, are you?"

Blaine's smiled widened.

"Don't be silly, Kurt. Of course _I'm_ not going sing it. It's a duet."

"Blaine, I'm not going to sing a song from-"

"_We're soaring, flying  
There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach._"

Blaine had barely moved while he sang, wasn't even bothering to try and persuade Kurt to join in too. He knew that Kurt would sing it anyway. It would be irritating, how well Blaine knew him, if it weren't so adorable.

"_If we're trying,  
So we're breaking free._"

Blaine snuggled close into Kurt's shoulder.

"I love you, you know."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "You better."

...

I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston

...

It wasn't supposed to turn into a tradition. But, somehow, these Saturday morning drives out to the park to watch rich people wearing too much lycra and dancing about to '80s music turned into a regular thing. In all honesty, Kurt couldn't be happier with that fact.

He and Blaine were camped out in Blaine's car, steaming coffees in their hands and windows open to the let the warm morning breeze drift inside. They watched the group of jazzercisers, sweating and panting as they moved awkwardly to the music, which was just loud enough for Kurt and Blaine to critique it from their vantage point.

For Kurt, most of these mornings were good ones. But, occasionally, one would come along and it would be so much better than good. One like today.

"Come on, folks! Give it your everything for the last chorus!"

"_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody  
I wanna feel the heat with somebody  
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody  
With somebody who loves me_."

Blaine was all but thrashing around in his seat, eyes closed, shoulders rolling, upper body moving in time with the beat. His arms were tucked in at the elbows so that he wouldn't knock Kurt out with their windmilling, but other than that small concession there was no hamper on the vigour of his dancing.

Beside him, Kurt was practically hysterical, doubled over with laughter as his boyfriend belted out the last few lines of the song. Blaine's voice held the last note for a few seconds longer than the voice on the song, and Kurt shrieked and grabbed Blaine's shoulder to pull them both down and out of sight when the eyes of a few of the jazzercisers turned their way.

"You are _crazy_," Kurt choked out, his head pressed against the glove compartment as he tried to stay hidden.

Blaine didn't say anything in reply, simply grinning back at Kurt from where he was tangled around the steering wheel.

...

All I Want For Christmas - Michael Buble

...

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas  
There is just one thing I need.  
I don't care about those presents  
Underneath the Christmas tree_

"_I just want you for my own  
More than you will ever know  
Make my wish come true  
Baby, all I want for Christmas is you._"

Blaine finished with a grin, flopping back against his seat. He could feel Kurt's amused stare on the side of his head but refused to turn and meet it.

"Blaine," Kurt said, "It's the middle of summer."

"I don't care," Blaine replied. "It's still always, always true."

...

Ours - Taylor Swift

...

It was dumb. Blaine knew it was dumb, knew he shouldn't have gotten so mad about it but _God,_ he was tired of it all. He was sick of people staring at him and Kurt if they so much as bumped shoulders in public, let alone went as far as holding hands. And this was just another stupid, ignorant person who'd felt the need to shout his stupid, ignorant opinions across the noisy food hall but-

But he was _tired_ of it. That was what it came down to.

"Blaine, don't worry about it," Kurt placated as Blaine slammed down the accelerator pedal, racing off at the traffic lights. "Don't let it get to you."

"How can it not get to me, Kurt? This has been going on for so long and I don't understand why these people still feel the need to- to treat us like that!" He glanced at Kurt, eyes blazing, and voice turning compassionate, "I want to be able to show you off to the world. I am _so_ lucky to have you and you are _so_ unbelievably amazing and- and I just want everyone else to know that."

Kurt's answering smile was fond and soft, and he reached out to touch Blaine's arm, resting his hand there like a steady weight, holding him together, keeping him from exploding with frustration.

"_Seems like there's always someone who disapproves  
They'll judge it like they know about me and you  
And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do  
The jury's out  
But my choice is you_...

"Ignore them," Kurt said. "And I promise I'll love you enough to drown out all the stupid hate."

...

I Want You To Want Me - Cheap Trick

...

Kurt could see it coming. He always could. Blaine tended to get this look in his eyes, this feel emanating off him. Kurt could see the beat starting up in Blaine's head as he started bouncing along to it in his seat. He noticed when Blaine's hands lifted up to begin strumming at an imaginary guitar.

"Don't do it," Kurt warned.

Blaine bit his lip, eyes darting up to Kurt's face. Measuring how great the risk was.

"The words start soon," he said, gaze turning beseeching.

"Don't do it," Kurt repeated.

Blaine looked away, then back at Kurt, clearly torn.

Kurt tried to keep his expression stern. But then something wavered.

A victorious grin stretched across Blaine's lips and he wasted no time in doing a fake flourish on his imaginary guitar before starting to sing.

"_I want you to want me  
I need you need me  
I'd love you to love me  
I'm begging you to beg me..._"

Kurt was scowling, lips pursed to hold in a smile as he idly said, "Well, there goes your chance of anyone loving you when we get back to your place."

Blaine was so caught up in the music that he didn't seem to hear.

...

If It's Love - Train

...

"You know the summer's almost over?"

Kurt shot Blaine a quizzical look over the top of the car, catching the flicker of something in his eyes before both of them ducked down to slide into their seats.

"So?" Kurt asked, tone careful.

Blaine shrugged, a little uncomfortably, eyes avoiding Kurt's as he did up his seatbelt.

"Well, this will be the second summer we've spent together."

"Yes."

"The last one we'll spend together as, y'know... high school... people."

"High school sweethearts?" Kurt supplied, his smile affectionate.

Blaine shrugged again, still looking away.

"And why is that such a big deal?" Kurt pressed, still confused at Blaine's discomfort.

"It's because- I keep realising that next summer, we'll be _adults_. Both of us. And this-" Blaine gestured between them, "This will be- I don't know... _real_."

"It isn't_ real_ now?"

Blaine laughed a bit, the sound stiff, but no less sweet. It still made Kurt's heart swoop, even after all this time.

"No, it _is _real. But high school relationships – they don't last, right? I mean, no one expects them to. But this – this _will _last. And this time next year it won't be a high school relationship anymore. It'll be- y'know, _real_."

Kurt smiled, reaching over to touch Blaine's cheek, to lift his face up so they're eyes could meet.

"I will love you until the day I die, Blaine Anderson. I waited for you for sixteen years, and I'll be damned if anyone ever tries to make me wait any longer. For me, I promise, _this_ has always been real. Nothing will ever change that."

"Me too."

Both boys let out a giggle – a shocked little noise in the silence of car. Because, God, this was crazy. No one is lucky enough to fall in love in high school, to have to wait _only_ sixteen years to find their soulmate. But they'd done it. They were the exception.

Kurt leant in and pressed a quick kiss to Blaine's lips, thrilling as he always did when he felt Blaine's body sag a bit, completely resigned and relaxing into his touch.

"I love you," Blaine said, sounding so utterly _lost_ at the fact of it.

Smiling, Kurt shuffled in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he started the car, switching on the radio. Kurt leant over to turn down the volume before settling back and reversing out of the parking spot.

"I know," he answered, as if it was an afterthought.

Blaine leant back in his seat, eyes watching Kurt with unbridled adoration as he murmured along to the song playing quietly in the background.

"_If it's love  
We decide that it's forever  
No one else could do it better.  
If it's love  
And we're two birds of a feather  
And the rest is just whatever._"

...

Kiss The Girl - Disney's The Little Mermaid

...

Kurt was pretty used to getting greeted strangely by now. Blaine tended to hear songs in places where no one else heard them, somehow sensing a rhythm or a beat in the chirping of cicadas or rush of traffic. And once there was that, all he really needed was a melody, some instruments to hum along to and some words to murmur as he stood by the curb, waiting for Kurt to arrive.

"Hey, you. Ready for our date?" Kurt asked, pulling up where Blaine was waiting on the pavement.

Blaine smiled and said, "_First, we got to create the mooooood_..."

Kurt stared, expression neutral.

"_Percussion,_" Blaine tapped a few beats against the side of the car, then opened the door and ducked inside, "_Strings_."

He leant in close to Kurt, looked at him with affectionate eyes and added, "_Winds._" He pecked Kurt's cheek lightly,_ "Words_."

Swaying back to sit up in his chair, Blaine closed his eyes, that same small smile still playing on his lips.

"_There you see her  
Sitting there across the way._"

Kurt hadn't started the car, and was instead silently watching Blaine. He'd opened his eyes by now, and turned to Kurt for the next line, informing him,

"_She don't got a lot to say  
But there's something about her._"

Blaine nodded knowingly, as if these lyrics would be mean something to Kurt.

"_And you don't why  
But you're dying to try  
You wanna,  
Kiss the girl_

Kurt rolled his eyes, settling back in his seat as he waited for Blaine to finish.

"_Yes, you want her  
Look at her you know you do  
Possible she want you too  
There is one way to ask her._

"_It don't take a word  
Not a single word  
Go on and,_"

Blaine broke off, gesturing to Kurt.

"No."

"C'mon, Kurt."

"No, I will not."

"Three little words."

"You just said it wouldn't take a word!"

Blaine grinned, charming, "I lied.

"_Shalalalalala my oh my  
Looks like the boy too shy  
Ain't gonna,_"

He gestured at Kurt again, but again he refused to sing the line.

"_Shalalalalala ain't that sad  
Ain't it shame, too bad  
He's gonna,_"

Another gesture, and this time Kurt answered, amused, "Kiss the girl?"

Blaine shook his head, "Wrong lyrics!"

Kurt nodded, "I know. I just want you to stop so we can get going. We have dinner reservations."

"Not stopping 'til you join in," Blaine sing-songed.

"Wow," Kurt sighed. "Your grasp of the English language has taken a very severe beating in the last minute and a half."

"Mean," Blaine pouted.

Kurt pouted back.

Dropping the pout when Kurt refused to change his expression, Blaine chose to ignore him instead. He schooled his face back to something more natural and, still acting as if what he said was of vital importance, sung,

"_Now's your moment  
Floating in a blue lagoon  
Boy you better do it soon  
No time will be better_

"_She don't say a word_

_And she won't say a word  
Until you-_"

"_Kiss the girl._"

Blaine stopped his swaying, his eyebrows jumping up at he stared at Kurt. He took in the almost coy expression on his boyfriend's face, the way he bit his lip and his eyes sparkled, as if with a challenge.

"Oh," Blaine said.

And then Kurt grabbed his collar and pulled Blaine in close, aligning their lips together and kissing him hard, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Maybe it sort of was.

...

Superman (It's Not Easy) - Five for Fighting

...

"_I wish that I could cry  
Fall upon my knees  
Find a way to lie  
About a home I'll never see..._"

Blaine's eyes were earnest and sad as he sang along to the song, gaze fixed resolutely – unseeingly – on the windscreen.

Beside him, hands resting on the wheel, Kurt wanted to cry. He wanted to grab Blaine and hold onto him forever. He wanted to insist that he wasn't leaving _him_ – he'd _never _leave him. He was just- just leaving.

He had to leave. They both knew it. But that didn't make it any less sad.

...

The One That Got Away - Katy Perry

...

Kurt felt- empty. As if he were living someone else's life, trapped inside someone else's body. He couldn't – literally, absolutely _couldn't _– comprehend everything that had happened in the past day and-

Had it really only been a day?

Was it really just less than twenty-four hours ago that he'd had a boyfriend and been in love and felt like nothing could go wrong in the world?

It seemed impossible. As if that boy who'd thought those things was a stranger, so separate the Kurt who existed now. The Kurt sitting on the stuffy backseat of a cab, feeling like a stranger in his own body.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and it seemed to Kurt that someone else's hands extracted it, someone else's fingers opened the message flashing on the screen.

An audio message. From Blaine.

And yet, despite the sense of detachment, it was _him_ who listened to the recording Blaine had sent. It was _his _heart that cracked a little more music started playing, cutting through the buzzing numbness of Kurt's head, the pressing silence of the cab. Blaine's broken voice, singing along to a broken song.

"_In another life  
I would make you stay  
So I don't have to say  
You were the one that got away._

"_The one that got away."_


	9. Nights Together

**Last Ten**

Nights Together

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

"Do you think your parents know I'm here?"

Blaine laughed at the whispered question, his chest vibrating beneath Kurt's cheeks.

"Shut up! I'm serious. What if we come downstairs in the morning and they're eating breakfast there and we have to explain that-"

"Kurt. Don't worry. I don't think my parents know that I'm here half the time. The odds of them noticing you are slim to none."

There was silence for a while. Kurt huffed out a breath, the warmth of it pooling on Blaine's skin.

"I notice that you're here though," Blaine added, sensing his boyfriend's discomfort. "And I love that you are."

...

Burt was frowning. He tended to frown a lot when Blaine was around. Kurt just hoped that Blaine hadn't noticed. Maybe he thought Burt's face always looked like that.

"He's dead to the world, Dad," Kurt pointed out. "There's no way anything could happen."

Burt's frown deepened.

"No funny business," he said. "The door stays open. And he leaves first thing in the morning."

Kurt rolled his eyes, looking down at his sleeping boyfriend.

Blaine was stretched along on side of his bed, lying on his side with his arms curling around a pillow, face buried in the doona he'd scrunched under his chin. Most of him was under the covers, all but one leg that hung out the side of the bed. His single visible foot was bare, dangling above the carpet in a way so stupidly cute that it made Kurt seriously wonder whether he could be developing a foot fetish.

"Yes, Dad," he answered, grinning when Burt left, turning off the light behind him.

...

"You're perfect," Kurt whispered.

"It's for you," Blaine replied into the darkness, his voice breaking at the solid truth and sincerity of the words. He wished he could explain it to Kurt. How much he'd changed for him, how much he'd found in himself – grown into himself and into something so much better than himself – with Kurt's help.

But it was impossible to say it all aloud, not matter how hard he tried.

"Whatever it is you seen in me, it's all because of you."

...

"He's gone!"

Blaine cracked one eye open, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt's wicked smile.

"I feel like we're breaking some sort of unwritten rule. I've only ever been allowed to stay here when I was actually asleep. And even then it was... iffy."

Kurt shrugged in response. Blaine didn't need to know that the rule was written. He also didn't need to know that Kurt had been planning this for days. That he'd been scheming rather evilly ever since that wonderful time last week when his Dad had let Blaine stay over, because he really truly had been asleep.

Ignoring his boyfriend's cautious expression – the way he was worrying his bottom lip, his nervous gaze fixed on the door – Kurt leant in a pressed a kiss to his cheek. Blaine didn't respond. Wicked smile now securely back in place, Kurt kissed a line across to Blaine's ear. He traced around the shell of it with his lips, just brushing it lightly, barely touching the skin. Reaching the earlobe, Kurt sucked it into his mouth, nipping it a little as he let it go. He could feel Blaine's body sagging against him, where his side was pressed to his chest.

"You're evil," Blaine murmured.

Kurt hummed in response, biting Blaine's earlobe again before moving down his neck.

"Evil," Blaine repeated.

...

"-owned a house with a huge stable, I remember. Your grandfather and I used to stay there as kids - with all our many, many cousins and brothers and sisters and such - and they'd all be crowded in with us. And the sounds of the animals would just be immense, the dear little lambs bleating their hearts out because we'd separated them from the mummies the day before, all ready for their tails to be docked and their ears to be tagged and all that jazz. And so of course we never got a moment's sleep in this stuffy shed-"

Blaine elbowed Kurt in the side, making him jump a bit as he woke up from the stupor he'd fallen into.

"You doing okay?" Blaine asked, leaning close to whisper in Kurt's cheek.

"Tired," Kurt breathed in response. "_Bored_."

Blaine lifted his serviette to his lips, pretending to wipe his mouth as he smothered a laugh.

"Not long to go," he promised. "We can escape at ten. Pretend we need to put the kids to bed and then just... not come back."

Kurt eyed the 'kids' in question. They were an eleven and an eight year-old, both of whom were some obscure relatives of Blaine's – sporting his silly dark curls and one with a very familiar nose – and looked like they were close to falling off their seats.

Sighing, Kurt moved his hand to rest it on Blaine's thigh, stroking little circles through the fabric of his jeans. Blaine's lips curled in a smile in response. And if Kurt's finger happened to stray a bit too far north, then it was all with the children in the mind. They needed to be escorted to bed after all. And then abandoned in favour of much less child-friendly pursuits.

...

Blaine was pretty sure he was drunk. He'd been feeling a bit tipsy after the third cup of something blue and sweet was shoved into his hand. He'd been perhaps almost positive that he was well on the way to inebriation when he'd downed that cider to a chorus of cheers from Sam and Mike. And then there'd been the shots...

So, in conclusion, Blaine was actually, really quite confident that he was probably a little bit drunk. Maybe a lot drunk. His head was spinning too much for him to really determine exactly where on the drunkenness spectrum he currently was. If only he could get hold of another cup of that glorious blue concoction and then-

Oh. That was Kurt. Blaine smiled up at him. He liked Kurt. He liked it when Kurt wrapped an arm around his waist, talking comforting little words of nonsense at him as he led him to the couch inside. He liked it when Kurt did other stuff too. The thought of the other stuff made Blaine laugh – loud and very, very _noisy_ in the quiet little living room that Kurt was leading him into.

Kurt was warm and giggling and very pliant under Blaine's hands. It was nice, and as he and Kurt slumped down on a couch, Blaine didn't really want to do much more than curl up against his beautiful, warm, giggly boyfriend and fall asleep. Because Kurt was oh-so-comfy and lovely.

Except that, just as Blaine tried to settle into Kurt's lap – and why Kurt laughing, that was _rude_ – he realised that his hands felt big and heavy. His hands felt like those Mickey Mouse gloves he'd gotten at McDonalds one time – and he was annoyed at them because what if he wanted to undo Kurt's jeans later, huh? What was he meant to do then? Mickey Mouse wouldn't be able to undo Kurt's pants, and that was good because Blaine didn't want Mickey Mouse's hands down his boyfriend's pants, he wanted _his_ hands down there, but he was sure that hadn't been his intention when he'd first began trying to settle against Kurt on the couch in the living room of this strange, strange house...

Like a haunted house!

It was as if they were the only two people left in this empty room of this mysterious house and together they had to make it through the night and avoid all the ghosts and monsters that were probably hiding inside it. Unless it was like that episode of _Buffy_ where the curse on the house actually made people just need to have sex all the time, and really would that be so bad?

Kurt was pretty and Blaine actually really wouldn't mind having sex with him forever and ever. Because his eyes were looking down at Blaine now, very affectionate and very bright and blue – blue like that wonderful blue drink!

Blaine wanted more of that drink.

Yum.

But he also wanted more of Kurt – _duh_ – only Kurt didn't seem to want to move from the couch. The haunted couch! And then Blaine remembered that, if this house was haunted and it was his and Kurt's job to stay inside of it for the whole night and wait out the ghosts and fend off Mickey Mouse's threatening advances, then he jolly well couldn't go gallivanting around outside looking for delicious blue drinks.

Only it had been _so_, _very_ yummy...

...

"My Dad's going to kill us."

"Shh. You're ruining the mood."

"There is no mood, Blaine. We're stuck in the middle of nowhere with no fuel and no food and no water. We're probably going to die out here. The mood cannot possibly be any more ruined."

"What if it started raining? That'd ruin it a bit more, I think."

"You're not helping."

"Or if we suddenly found out that that puppy who chewed on my finger last week was actually a werewolf and I'd been bitten and the moment the moon comes out from behind that cloud I'm going to turn into a deadly beast and try to eat you."

"Blaine."

"Or if some creepy man with an axe whose girlfriend once broke up with him by the side of this road came looking for revenge."

"_Blaine_, don't-"

"Or if a bear came out of the woods and it was massive and really, really hungry and broke into the car to- Kurt?"

Kurt let out a whimper.

"Are you scared?"

"No. I'm fine. My boyfriend's just being an idiot."

Blaine grinned, "You're _so _scared. I can't believe I scared you. I was joking. You're meant to be laughing."

"Well, let's just see who's laughing when an axe-wielding vengeful were-bear appears and kills us both."

"You just said 'were-bear'."

"Shut up."

"I think it's cute. How scared you are."

"I'm _not_ scared."

Blaine chuckled a bit, but didn't reply. In the silence, every sound outside seemed magnified. Every hoot of an owl, every crack of a twig, every drop of a leaf or seed onto the top of the car-

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we cuddle?"

"Because you're scared?"

"No. Because this way the murderous were-bear will see you first. And then I really will laugh as I watch it eat you."

"Ouch. That was uncalled for."

Blaine really did sound offended, but nonetheless he shuffled closer to Kurt, wrapping his arms around him and manoeuvring them so that they could both fit semi-comfortably, sprawled across the folded down backseat.

"You deserved it," Kurt finally replied. "For scaring me."

...

"Love you, Kurt."

Kurt's body tingled at the feel of Blaine's lips moving against his shoulder. He felt like he was glowing with the soft, tender words. Felt as if the warmth of Blaine's breath was them being sucked into his skin, absorbed into his body like a medicine, like air or food or water – taken in like they were essential and delicious.

"I love you, too."

...

Was it creepy?

Blaine thought it might be creepy.

He wouldn't ask then.

It was creepy and weird and stupid. He wouldn't ask. Definitely not. No. It'd be creepy.

"Can I leave you on Skype tonight? While I go to sleep?"

Well. So much for not asking.

Kurt's eyes widened a bit at the request.

Blaine felt like an idiot.

It was creepy. Of course it was creepy. It was dumb and stupid and creepy and Kurt thought he was dumb and stupid and creepy and as if it wasn't bad enough already that Kurt was all the way away in New York with all these wonderful, smart, older, taller New York men probably fawning all over him. No, if all of that wasn't enough, Blaine was also being ridiculously creepy, and really? He almost wouldn't blame Kurt for moving on from someone as creepy and young and annoying as he was.

He was being stupid. It was stupid. He was an idiot.

"Sorry, I'm- I didn't mean-"

"Yes."

Blaine stopped short. Blinked twice. Opened his mouth and closed it again. Blinked some more.

"What?"

Kurt looked a little nervous and shy and _young_, biting his lip and glancing over his shoulder to where Rachel was inevitably lurking as he answered, "Yes. Yes, I'd love to stay on Skype. For the night."

"For the night," Blaine repeated, taking it in. "Oh. Okay."

"Unless you don't want to. Unless you think it's... you know... creepy."

Blaine made a noise, half-laugh, half-sigh.

"I do think it's a bit creepy," he admitted. "But I love you. And I miss you. And I want you to be- _here._ Close. If you don't mind."

Kurt shook his head, his eyes so, so tender and loving as he said, "No, Blaine. I don't mind at all."

...

He sort of wondered how everything could go so wrong.

'Sort of', because his mind wasn't exactly fully functional right now. Not so dysfunctional that he was thinking about haunted houses and touchy-feely Mickey Mouses, but dysfunctional enough that he couldn't quite get his thoughts straight, couldn't quite comprehend everything that had happened to get him here and now and like this.

Couldn't quite work out when and how everything had gone so, so wrong.

And since when had _this_ ever felt wrong?

Blaine thought back, trying to sort through muddled thoughts and flashes of memories. Trying to figure out if, ever before, Kurt had felt like so much a ghost beside him. Trying to figure out if, ever before, he'd felt like a towering brick wall stretched between them. Cutting them off entirely from each other.

* * *

**A/N: This is unrelated. Just so you know.**

**Anyway, I've decided to do something special for Christmas because I have a lot of things to celebrate this year and all of you deserve to celebrate with me. So I've decided that I'm giving a Christmas ficlet to everyone of my readers who wants one. All you have to do is scurry over to my tumblr (padfoots-page) and click the link under the heading 'Padfoot's Christmas Gifts'. It will take you to survey to fill out, and based on your response to that I will write you a personalised fic and (if you live in Australia) post that to you along with a Christmas card. If not, you will get the fic dropped into your inbox or PM-ed to you or whatever. Because, well, why not?**

**So please feel free to go over there and fill out the form. I'd really love to get to personally thank you all for the wonderful support you've all given me, and writing is really the only present I can give.**


	10. I Love You's

**A/N: Tonight's episode made me emotional for the wrong reasons. I'll leave it at that, and then give you this, and it probably all makes me a horrible person who's incredibly cynical and not welcome in the happy-dancing-joyous-circle-of-love that is the Klaine fandom after 4x08. Apologies if that made no sense. Expect a longer rant at the bottom.**

* * *

**Last Ten**

"I Love You"s

Prompted by Miss Olivia Cellophane

...

_by padfoot_

* * *

_From Blaine:  
_ilysmtiwsmwlttbgetdtblby

_From Kurt:  
_?

_From Blaine:  
_I really mean it. From the depths of my heart.

_From Kurt:  
_re ypou drunk?

_From Blaine:  
_Are *you*?

_From Kurt:  
_No. I'm trying to hold mgy phone and 2 coffees and not get mugged.

_From Blaine:  
_Your efforts are valiant. I feel like I should stop bothering you though.

_From Kurt:  
_Maybe. Or you could just temporarriily stop bpothering me and then bother my later on Skype.

_From Blaine:  
_See you in a few minutes?

_From Kurt:  
_I'll be waitig

_From Blaine:  
_I try not to keep you 'waitig' too long :)

Blaine grinned, stowing his phone in his pocket and swivelling around in his chair to face his computer. He hadn't had the heart to tell Kurt that he had logged on to Skype already – had been signed in since he'd gotten home, just as he was every day.

Besides, he didn't want his boyfriend to get the feeling that this was urgent. It wasn't urgent. Nothing had changed. Well, _something_ had changed but- but _nothing_ had, in a far more profound and important way. Blaine just knew now – knew for absolute sure, knew so deep in his heart and his mind and his soul that it _hurt_ – that he wanted to be with Kurt, wanted to be _Kurt's _forever.

Nothing had changed. Nothing at all had changed.

Logging himself out of Skype (he'd wait a minute or two after Kurt had logged in to politely pretend he'd just finished something and that, _no, of course I wasn't waiting up for you, I never go to bed before midnight these days_), Blaine glanced at the picture of Kurt on his desk. It was an innocuous shot – nothing as gut-wrenchingly stunning as the black-and-white photo he kept beside his bed and barely even pretended wasn't used for, well... _unsavoury_ imaginings. No, this picture was a candid, an unexpected blur of a picture that had been accidentally snapped by Tina when she and Mike had gone on a picnic with Kurt and Blaine the previous summer.

Kurt had been sitting eating strawberries, posing jokingly for a photo for Tina when Blaine and Mike had returned from their trek to the rubbish bin, and Blaine had been unable to stop himself from catapulting his body at his boyfriend just as Tina's camera went off. What resulted was a blurry photo of Kurt, mouth wide in a silent shriek in the moment before Blaine had toppled onto him. In that picture – held steady by a silly wooden frame his mother had dug out from the back of a cupboard – Blaine could see that entire day together, the entire summer, even. He could see every millisecond he'd spent with Kurt – every surprise he'd given him, every kiss and hug they'd shared, every little thing that he wanted to have forever.

In that photo he saw Kurt Hummel: unadorned. Perfectly, astronomically, impeccably wonderful.

Blaine smiled, looking back to his computer and happily logging back onto Skype when he saw that Kurt was online.

"Hey, you," Kurt grinned.

Blaine smiled in reply, trying not to notice the differences. Trying not to have to pretend there was nothing on his mind.

As the call went on, Blaine came to realise that he had a ridiculously adorable boyfriend. Not that he didn't already know that. He _did_ – objectively, subjectively, in every -jective way there was to know it – but it still didn't hurt to be reminded every so often. To notice how different it was to love all of someone, rather than just-

But no.

Nothing had changed.

Like now, for instance. Kurt's cheeks were cherry red and he was looking absolutely gorgeously mussed, probably from the wind outside. He was perched on his bed, propped up against the headboard and complaining cheerily to Blaine about the crazy errands Rachel had been sending him on while she stayed up to rehearse for a performance she had the next day. Blaine was barely taking in a word Kurt said, probably smiling very, very dopily as he just... took Kurt in. Every strand of hair on his head, every twitch of his lips, every sparkle in his eyes. Every little tiny detail that made Blaine's heart ache, he missed it so much.

"What are you smiling so hard at?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"What?"

Kurt hoisted a mock-frown onto his face, lips pouting spectacularly. All Blaine wanted was to kiss him hard. To pull that bottom lip into his mouth and suck and bite and _have him_ because Kurt was _his_ and it felt so, so awful, so, so wrong to do all that with someone who _wasn't_-

_Shh, Blaine. Stop_. Nothing had changed.

"I love you, that's all. A lot."

Kurt's frown fell and his expression was earnest and sweet as he said, "I know, sweetie. I love you too."

Blaine bit his lip.

Nothing had changed, nothing had changed, nothinghadchanged!

"No, I mean- I _really,_ really love you. So much, Kurt. So much it- it hurts."

Blaine's voice broke a little on the last word and already Kurt was there, sitting up straighter and fussing and touching the side of the screen as he'd gotten into the habit of doing. Blaine knew what it meant, understood the gesture completely. He felt the need too – the need to reach and touch Kurt's face, to feel his skin and his cheeks and his warmth and it was _different_ and _better _to any other skin, any other warmth and-

Nothing. Had. Changed.

Kurt's expression was concerned now, his eyes cautious, his finger still fluttering around the screen.

"Blaine, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm- I'm fine. I just. I missed you today. More than ever. Something happened and it-"

_Reminded me of you? Made me think of you?_

How do you tell someone you love that something terrible has happened to create something great? How can you say, 'it made me love you anew' without saying that? How can you describe sharing something so sacred and private and intimate with someone else, but show that it wasn't all those things _because _it was with someone else?

"-it made me realise how much I love you."

Kurt looked confused, and Blaine was blinking, trying so hard to keep the tears from his eyes (nothing had changed, nothing had changed, nothing had changed) that he couldn't see Kurt's face as he answered, somewhat perplexed, "I love you too."

"Kurt, I love _you_. I love _only_ you. Always, _always _you."

A pause. Blaine sucked in a deep breath, tried to compose himself. Peered up at Kurt.

"Blaine. Are you _sure _you're okay?"

Forcing out a smile seemed like the most difficult thing Blaine had done today.

He hated himself a little bit for that. Hated how difficult this was and how so, incredibly easy _that_ had been.

"I'm with the person that I love," he shrugged, "How could I not be okay?"

"You just seem... I don't know. Distant. Do you need some sleep? Am I keeping you up?"

Kurt's eyes left the screen, glanced at his clock and he winced.

"Oh, god, when did it get so late? I must be keeping you up. Please, go to bed, Blaine. I feel horrible already."

Blaine forced out a laugh.

"Don't be silly," he said, "Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't need to go to bed tonight."

"But don't you have homework and Glee Club and..."

"No. It's fine."

Blaine didn't even know if he was lying. All of tonight felt like a dream. From the moment he'd left school, phone heavy in his pocket with the secrets it held, right up until now, he could hardly recall what had happened. Not in detail. Not in the beautiful, intimate way he remembered every kiss and touch and moan and tremble he'd shared before now. All of them - every single one - with Kurt.

"I love you," Blaine said again.

Was he saying it too much? Was it suspicious? Did Kurt suspect-?

But no,_ nothing had changed_, and Kurt was smiling sort of sideways, adjusting where he sat on his bed, long legs uncoiling and _oh, god,_ Blaine couldn't do this right now, just couldn't, not before showering and sleeping and _thinking_ – he needed to _think_.

"You're saying that an awful lot," Kurt murmured, practically purred, his tone pointed and suggestive, "Can I- uh, _help_ you with something?"

Blaine may have scrambled in a very incoherent way in response.

"No, Kurt, I'm not- I mean, I'd _love_ to, with you... later. Maybe. Or tomorrow, or tomorrow night. Or later- and. It's not- not because I don't _want_ to. God, no- I always- with you I... it's never _not_ with- and, uh. I just. I just mean- y'know. I love you. Just as, I love you. Not as a-an... uh. Suggestion. Or invitation or whatever."

Kurt was looking confused again. Blaine raked a hand through his hair.

Still messy. Still not re-gelled since another pair of hands had been tugging at it mercilessly, not soft and gentle like Kurt-

Nothing had changed. No one had else had ever touched him like that. Only Kurt. Only Kurt.

"Maybe I should go to bed," Blaine admitted.

Kurt nodded, "Yeah, maybe you should. Love you."

Blaine nodded and tried not to think _for now_.

Nothing. Had. Changed.

On Skype, Kurt's face disappeared as he ended the call, then logged out a second later. Blaine stayed where he was, glancing at the photo again, then at his phone, sitting next to it on his desk.

He picked up his phone, testing the weight of it in his hands. Wondered if it really was heavier, weighed down by remorse. By betrayal.

And, sitting alone at his desk in the middle of night, for the first time since Kurt had left, Blaine really, truly tired.

He tried to work out what he had done, how everything had come to this. He tried to figure out why he had lied – _if_ he had lied – and how it could all be fixed. He tried and tried and tried. Tried not to let the world fall in on him. Tried so, so hard not to cry.

Because how could he explain that nothing had changed when it felt like everything had?

_From Blaine:  
_I love you so much that I will spend my whole life trying to be good enough to deserve to be loved you.

_From Blaine:  
_That's what it meant.

* * *

**A/N: Right, so I really need to stop ranting about things, because after all that's what tumblr is for. And I've already ranted on tumblr, so ranting again is entirely pointless and counter-productive, but I'm doing it anyway. So here goes.**

**This whole thing with Kurt choosing his job over Blaine is getting me very annoyed, and I honestly don't understand it. Now, I've never really understood Kurt's characterisation, and every time I try to get it people seem to think I've gotten him all wrong, but seriously: what kind of person who is as unselfish and kind-hearted as everyone seems to think Kurt is hangs up on/skips calls from his boyfriend twice, both times for (unnecessary and un-urgent) work things and then after they've broken up only calls him back because his boss tells him to? ****Kurt isn't friends with Isabelle or whatever the hell her name is. Or, at least, we haven't been given enough of their interactions for me to have any reason to believe that he's friends with her. And I just- I _hate _that he's taking her advice, like she's some kind of relationship guru. I didn't want what seemed to me like a very reluctant and polite rather than genuine 'I love you' on Kurt's part. I hate when those words are bandied around and this seemed to be exactly that.**

**And now I'm done. Sorry.**

**Anyway, this probably seems fairly un-genuine now, but I would like to thank everyone who has been reading this story, and everyone who endured that rant. Normally I wouldn't do that on a story like this that I know people are already pretty reluctant to read but DAMN that episode frustrated me. **

**(*deep breaths*)**

**Thanks to everyone who sent in a prompt (or more than one!) and apologies for those that I couldn't use, and those that I did use but the chapters kind of sucked. I do try my best. But then something like this week's episode happens and I kind of just lose my shit.**

**I really am done now, though.**

**Sorry and thank you,**

**padfoot**


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